On The Run
by Bulldust
Summary: The arrival of a harmless stranger comes with it many unforeseen dangers. When the Donaghy territory's borders weaken, it leaves an gap for allies and enemies to come through.


"No."

"You're going."

"No."

"Only you can do it."

"No."

"You don't have a choice."

"No."

"..."

The small beige she wolf glared up at the larger male, she was beginning to lose her patience with him. The red male in return glared down at her, every fiber in his being wanting to stay put. Their gazes locked in an intense battle of wills, while another rolled their eyes with a passive sigh. A red she wolf, smaller than the male but larger than the beige wolf, stood up and nosed at the red male's flank, drawing his attention, "Its okay brother, it's only for a few days."

Her brother gave a rather annoyed sigh in defeat. He didn't even know how he got roped into this job. The beige wolf, Jazzy, gave him a smile as his sister Dracorex broke him down, "Draco and Lambei will be in good hands while you show Petrichor the land."

He glared at the mention of his latest 'assignment.' A little over a week ago the Southern Border Patrol stumbled on a half dead loner. He was filthy and thinner than a stripped carcass, with wounds to match. In fact, if he wasn't breathing when the patrol found him, they would have walked right over him. They dragged his body back towards the main pack to see what Harvey would do with him. The alpha didn't want anything to do with dying wolf, but the council intervened. The final decision was to keep this loner, but only as an omega for grunt work and errands around the expansive land claimed by Donaghy. And it was Wawelski's job to show him around. Keeping him away from his sister who needed his protection.

"I'll keep an eye on Draco myself if you're so paranoid," Jazzy's voice drew his attention from his brooding thoughts to glare down at the she wolf. If only she wasn't the alpha's daughter, and Dracorex's friend. "Come on Waw," she gave him a nudge, "Let's go see if Pet's awake."

He gave a low growl as he followed her, with Dracorex trotting alongside him. The trio travelled in the dawn light, making their way through the main denning area at the cliffs. They moved past young yearlings as they played while the rest of the pack slept. Jazzy made a sharp turn and slipped inside a hidden den; Wawelski lowered his head to glare into the darkness. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting to see two small forms. The closer one Jazzy, and the skinny one lying down, most likely 'Petrichor.' They spoke softly to another and the wolf flicked his eyes towards the entrance. They were wide and overly bright, reflecting light from the rising sun behind Wawelski.

A few moments of talking lead to the pair scraping and crawling out of the den, with Jazzy in the lead. A few seconds later Petrichor came out, with much less confidence than the she wolf. He hesitantly poked his muzzle out, followed by a thin foreleg. He dragged himself out and climbed up on shaky legs, giving his silver pelt a shake. Dirt and dust flicked off his soft locks and his pale yellow eyes darted nervously around the camp, anxious to be around so many wolves. Wawelski gave his assignment a once over. His muzzle and legs were covered in healing scabs and scars, and there were more no doubt more hidden in his longer guard hairs. He had been slowly gaining weight since he arrived, but he was still very thin with his hips and ribs protruding. Wawelski gave a short sniff to get the wolf's scent, and paused. Although he smelled clearly like a wolf, it was hard to tell his sex. If he hadn't had been briefed on Petrichor beforehand, he wouldn't have known he was male without a firm scenting. The silver male kept his head lowered and ears flat on his head, his tail tucked into the starving curve of his belly.

"This is Petrichor, our newest pack member," Petrichor tail gave a little wag of greeting, but it was more out of politeness than any mirth. Jazzy gave a soft smile at him, then swung her head to Wawelski, "Pet, meet Wawelski. He's going to show you the whole territory of Donaghy Pack, right Waw?" Wawelski didn't grace her with a response, he instead glared daggers into Petrichor. The newcomer had fear in his eyes and they both had the same question in their minds: 'Why me?'

Sensing the silver omega's unease, Jazzy sidled up right next to him and gave his flank a supportive lean, "I know it's an odd pairing but trust me, it'll do both of you good. Waw here needs to get out of the den every once in a while and stop being a batty hermit. He needs some fresh air." Dracorex laughed and Pet gave a weak smile. Wawelski glowered; he wasn't a hermit.

"You're in good hands Pet, out of all the wolves in this pack, I trust him. He saved my life once, I know he'll keep you out of harm's way." Pet gave the red male an incredulous look, not believing her for a second. Wawelski didn't blame him, as he was more than double their size and covered in scars.

The male's focused their eyes onto the beige wolf as she started talking again, "Draco and Lambei are gonna stay with me in the camp while you show Pet around the territory. Were gonna _groom _each other and talk about other _males_~" she gave a suggestive smirk and her gray eyes were full of humor. Dracorex giggled beside Wawelski while he gave her a deadpan look. Meanwhile Pet was very close to having an anxiety attack. Dracorex gave a kiss goodbye on Wawelski's brow and gave Pet a friendly shoulder rub. Her parting to Pet made something akin to jealous rage turn in his gut. The two she wolves padded off, and Wawelski swung around and started trotting down the hill. He heard frantic footsteps stumble after him. He was going to get this over with as soon as possible.

Massive paws plowed through the snow, the midday sun making his coat a striking red. The wolf pounded across the land, his breath leaving a foggy trail with his tracks. He bounded up to a nearby boulder and scaled it with an impressive leap. Kicking snow off the top Wawelski scanned the rolling foothills of the Donaghy territory. He decided to take the new wolf to the nearest border and circle the land, using the markers to guide them. If they kept at this pace they would clear most of the territory by sundown. He turned back to where Petrichor was trailing behind, but the silver wolf was nowhere in sight.

Bemused he climbed down and backtracked through his trail, taking the time to scent him out. He trotted along until he found a familiar form crumpled to the ground. The thin wolf's sides were heaving with the effort to breathe, and his legs shook from exhaustion. The red male grew irritated at Petrichor's suffering. They were losing precious daylight because this omega wanted to take a break every hour.

"_Get up_," he snapped, giving the wolf a kick with a foreleg. "You're lucky Donaghy was merciful enough to take you in. Any other pack would see your weakness as vermin and kill you on the spot."

The silver male stumbled to his feet with a shaky whine, his paws trembled under him. He took a step forward and then fell to his side once again. Wawelski gave a deep, frustrated sigh through his nose, eyes screwed shut. This wasn't going to work; at the pace they were going, it would take days, maybe even a week for them to cover just the perimeter of their vast territory. He glared at the weaker wolf. He couldn't go faster than an amble with this omega.

"Come on," he barked at the male, shouldering past him with enough force to knock him down again. Petrichor climbed to his feet once again and followed at red wolf. They walked at a much slower pace, allowing the silver wolf to catch his breath and the red wolf to think of a new plan.

As they walked along the border he heard a soft voice, ".. Where is everybody?"

Wawelski slowed his steps, thoughtful. He took in a quick huff of air to gauge the surrounding area to find no fresh pack scents. He trudged through the heavy snow drifts to find the more recent scent markers were only a few days old and covered in snow. He gave a soft growl in frustration. Why weren't the borders being guarded? What was that ofe of an Alpha doing all day?

He heard a soft whine behind him, "Wawelski? Are you okay? Waw-"

"_Quiet!_" he barked, silencing the omega's insufferable whimpers. He lowered his voice, "And keep it down, no one has been marking the Southern Borders for the past several days."

"Why?" Petrichor whispered back.

Wawelski wet his lips with his warm tongue, mulling over what happened in the last week or so. He ushered the skinny wolf to walk close to him. "There was an incident on the Northern Border the other night. A Cardew hunting party had taken down a moose on our territory and it lead to a border dispute. From what I know it is still a heated area and most of the Scouts are guarding the Northern Border. "

"Cardew?"

The red male gave a low growl. So many questions. "The Cardew Pack live on the Northern Plains. Our territory resides at the mountain slopes and firs."

Petrichor gave a soft hum in understanding with a thoughtful look on his thin face. To avoid any more conversation, the red male trotted up to a nearby marker. It was a rather large boulder, its long side was tall and pointing to the sky. With time and weathering the rock was smoothened and tilted towards the south. The Donaghy Scouts often climbed this boulder to get a lookout of the surrounding area. Wawelski knew he was too big to climb it, so he didn't even try. Instead he sidled up to the base and marked it, while scanning the surrounding slopes for any movement.

As he lowered his leg he thought he saw something flicker in the corner of his vision. He watched the elevated land outside the border. His bold amber eyes scanned every tree, every rock and cliff face. Nothing.

He turned around to speak to Petrichor when he heard the soft crunching of snow. He swung his head around just in time to see kicked clumps rolling down the slope in the distance. He gave a sniff, confirming his suspicions. He turned to the silver wolf and gave a low growl, "Run."

The outer slopes exploded with activity, as half a dozen wolves sprang from their cover. Wawelski heard Petrichor bolt off behind him, and the red wolf cantered towards the rival group with a heavy gait, tail high. The enemy wolves were skinny and light as they raced towards the red male. So light than when one tried to leap onto his withers, Wawelski bowled him over with a simple headbutt. He sank his teeth into the winded wolf and gave a shake, earning screams in pain from the wolf. The cries forced the other wolves to slow down to a wary halt.

The rivalling wolves circled Wawelski cautiously, nipping at his sides. The red male whirled around and tried to bite them, but he wasn't quick enough. One of them got too close to his foreleg and Wawelski snapped at their neck. Panicked the others piled onto the pack wolf, biting and ripping at him. The red male felt his body get torn to shreds by their countless bites and tears. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight them all off, but the least he could do was buy Petrichor more time to run back to camp. He had to get out from under them if he was going to make it out in one piece. And it had to be fast.

In a last ditch effort to escape, Wawelski lowered himself so his body and head was on the ground. The wolves were soon climbing on top of him. Some of them were cocky enough to take a dominant stance on top of him. The red male gave a low growl under his breath, bunching his muscles under him.

The rebel group were scent flying when Wawelski reared up with such force, his feet left the ground. He gave the wolves behind him a firm kick to force them back, and he charged towards a tumbled wolf. He clamped his jaws around its thin neck and ripped at the tender flesh. The choked cries of their companion sparked fear in the rogue wolves' hearts, and they gave panicked cries.

Wawelski was planning to tan all of their hides when the wind was knocked out of him. He fell over with a hard thud in the snow, and he felt a heavy weight on his chest and neck. He opened his eyes to see three sharp fangs clamp down on his muzzle. Wawelski kicked and snarled at the new wolf who had him heated amber gaze locked onto icy grey ones, and he felt a clawed foot press harder on his throat to silence him.

A large, gray wolf stood on top of the writhing red male. This wolf was a lot heavier and muscular than the other wolves, leading Wawelski to believe this wolf to was the ringleader. He had a strong, musky scent of male, so much stronger than the other wolves in the pack. Wait. Wawelski gave a weak sniff. They were all male, but their scents were so hard to find.

The gray boss released his jaws from around Wawelski's face, letting the red male get a good look at his attacker's face. His face was dark, with a massive scar running down the right side of its face, ending in a toothless pit. There was no warmth in his icy gaze, not even fire. It was as cold and calculating as a winter storm. He felt those cold eyes look him up and down, glazing over every detail, before he gave a rough growl, "Pity. You'll be allowed to live."

Wawelski didn't have time to mull over the wolf's cryptic message, when the gray male barked at his subordinates, "Where did the silver one go." The subordinate males gave mixed whines in their failed capture.

The red wolf tensed under the gray male; they were going after Petrichor. He flicked his gaze around to find some sort of escape.

"_Find him!_" The gray male boomed, loosening his hold on the red wolf's throat. "He is not allowed to live another d-"

Wawelski gave the boss a sharp kick to the face, sending him flying off. The rebel wolves scrambled to their leader in panicked barks as the red wolf made a break for it. He barreled around the Scouting Rock and ran through the fresh trails. In the distance he heard the booming roar of their boss in rage, and he quickened his pace.

His mind was racing a mile a minute, faster than his paws can carry him. Where could Petrichor be? Where would he go. He almost didn't hear the soft howls over the rush of blood in his ears. He veered towards the foreign howls to find Petrichor. The silver wolf was perched on a fallen log. And he was howling.

Wawelski charged into him and knocked the omega off the log, sending them tumbling down an unseen slope. They crashed through dense shrubs to land beside a sluggish creek. Wawelski fell on top of the smaller male, and he stood up with a cough.

"What.. are you _doing_." He wheezed out. Blood dripped from his body onto the silver wolf, and it turned the omega into a spluttering mess.

"I wa-was trying to call for help, we were in danger I-"

"_Shut up_." He snapped. The smaller wolf immediately fell silent as they listened. Wawelski didn't hear them, but he knew they'd be on them soon. He pushed the omega to his feet hissing, "We have to go. Into the water."

Petrichor gave a soft whine at the river before he was unceremoniously kicked in by the larger male. He tumbled into the water with a cry as he struggled to keep his head up. Moments later Wawelski was beside him, lifting the omega's head up. The smaller male clung to the red wolf as they drifted down stream, away from the outsiders.

His body was freezing when Wawelski pulled himself out of the water. His muscles ached from carrying Petrichor as they swam downstream. They were ice cold and at risk of hypothermia, but they were alive.

The silver wolf was shaking terribly from the cold and exhausted. Wawelski shook himself out, trying to dry his fur. He looked around to try and get a sense of their location. They seemed to have made it to the Western edge of the territory, but they were nowhere near the mega pack or a patrol. The red male weighed in his options as the omega stumbled close to him. The omega was terribly weak, and in his current condition, he wouldn't last the night. They would have to find shelter from the cold, and from the stranger wolves. Wawelski looked back at the river. He hoped their washed scents would keep them hidden for a while.

With a grunt he turned and marched up the hills to find a resting place, with Petrichor limping after him in the setting sun. They seemed to walk for hours, with how slow time was crawling by. Petrichor was getting worse by the minute, and he grew slower and colder. Wawelski was debating on resting out in the open when he heard soft scuffling sounds. He turned his head, listening. Soft whines were heard over the snowdrifts once more, carried with the scent of coyote. The red male pushed through the snow to find a pair of courting coyotes nestled inside a den. They both paused to look at the red male, before they ran out in panic when the wolf started snapping at them.

The pair of scavengers nearly knocked Petrichor off his feet, and the omega swayed. Wawelski lumbered over to the silver wolf and grabbed him by the scruff, hauling him to the burrow and inside. He took on last look at the dark world outside, before crawling in himself.

Or at least, _tried _to.

His shoulders were much too narrow to get in with ease, and it was a very small space. It was cramped even for the omega, let alone the massive red male. The large wolf sat still, thinking. "I'm going to have to sleep outside."

The shivering omega lifted his head in concern, teeth chattering, "D-don't go out there. You'll catch your-r death."

He gave the wolf a hard stare, "You look like you'd freeze before me." He growled, and then paused. The smaller wolf's body was wracked with shivers, his already thin frame was exposed to the cold. Even the small den still couldn't warm up the quaking omega. He needed a heat source.

Wawelski gave a deep, long growl and shut his eyes. He heard Petrichor give a shaky whimper. He clawed at the floor of the den, digging at the frozen earth and heaving himself inside through the narrow entrance. It was a tight squeeze. He nearly crushed the weaker wolf when he climbed inside. He red male flopped down with a huff, blocking the entrance with his back. He was about to call it a night when he felt movement under him, and heard a muffled cry. The omega had managed to get himself trapped under the red male's sheer bulk, and was slowly getting crushed. Wawelski gave a huff in annoyance.

Grabbing the omega by the scruff he pulled him from under his side. There was no where else to put the small wolf, and he was succumbing to the cold. With a growl, Wawelski pulled the omega close to him, tucking the small male to his chest. The omega was petrified and didn't move or make a sound as Wawelski settled down. If the red male truly wanted to, he could rip his ears off.

But he didn't. Instead, Wawelski gave a yawn and rested his head on top of Petrichor's. As the red male rested, the silver wolf made sure not to disturb him. The smaller male took in all the fresh wounds and scrapes the larger wolf endured to make sure he was safe. For the first time in his life, Petrichor warmth and safety. It was a strange feeling.

As the silver wolf was drifting off, he was shaken awake by the rumbling question from the red male's chest, "Petrichor, why did those males smell faint, just like you." Petrichor didn't reply. He didn't so much as breathe. After a moment, Wawelski assumed the omega had fallen asleep, and the question was dropped.

The red male stirred awake that quiet morning. He was uncomfortably boxed in wherever he was, and incredibly warm. His tired mind pieced together that he was in a den. But he never slept in dens, so why did he start now?

What originally roused him was the feeling of another wolf grooming his face. Wawelski gave a soft sigh as his brow was groomed. He must have denned with Dracorex for the night. But how did the omega manage to get a burrow? She must have asked Jazzy. The large wolf dozed in and out of consciousness as his denmate cleaned his wounds. His body was littered with them, he was surprised he didn't reek of blood.

Memories of the day prior slowly filtered into his fog ridden brain. He got all those wounds from a fight on the border, protecting the new omega. And they were running away from other wolves. Wawelski furrowed his brow. If there was a lawless pack after Petrichor, where was he?

He slowly opened his yellow eyes and found himself to nose with the omega.

"_Get off!"_ He roared, shoving the omega off of him. The silver male squeaked and scrambled over the raging male to climb outside. Anger boiled inside of him, warming his gut with adrenaline. He was about to snap at the male when he heard shuffling outside and crying.

The red male clawed his way out of the den as fast as he could to see the silver wolf pinned down under one of the skinny rogues. Pet struggled as he held the male's snapping teeth away from his neck, his face already bleeding.

Wawelski barreled into the skinny male and knocked him off the omega, pushing the silver wolf up. The skinny rogue staggered to his feet and started to bark and howl, alerting the others of their location. Wawelski tore into the rogue's throat, silencing him. Then the pair took off running towards the center of the territory, trying to get as much distance between the feral pack as foreign howls of the rogue pack were beginning to call behind them as they sped through the territory, only their fight-or-flight response powering them. Soon the rogues faded away altogether, and only then did the pack wolves dare to slow their sprint down to a shaky trot. Wawelski scanned the land in front of him for any danger, the winter morning was clear of any wolves. They were home free.

He turned his head to call to Petrichor, but he was cut off a shriek. He skidded to a halt and whipped his body around to see the omega tumbling in the snow, with a scarred muzzle wrapped around his throat. The large gray boss had managed to track the pack wolves down, and was dead set on snuffing the life out of Petrichor.

Wawelski charged forward and snapped his jaws around the scarred male's face, tearing at his brow and muzzle. The gray male gave a snarl, dropping Petrichor. He lunged for the red male and latched onto an ear and twisted, ripping the thin flesh. Wawelski turned with him and clamped down onto the rogue's foreleg. The two tumbled into the snow in a writhing knot of fur and snarls.

While the larger male's fought on, Petrichor staggered to his feet, openly bleeding. He wanted to run back to camp, to the safety of the pack. But as he turned to face the fighting pair, he saw how injured Wawelski already was. If the omega left him, the red male would die.

The gray male had his teeth in Wawelski's shoulder when Petrichor grabbed his tail with a sharp tug. The scarred wolf whipped around to snap at the omega, only to be slammed into the ground by the red pack wolf. Wawelski snapped and ripped at the scarred male's head, with the latter trying vigorously to kick him off.

The wolves stopped fighting when they heard distant howls. The pack wolves turned to the North and saw the Donaghy Scouts racing towards them, tails high and barking. The gray male snapped at Wawelski's foot while he was distracted. The red male reeled back in pain, letting the scarred rogue slip away and run off. The pack Scouts charged after the wounded rogue, leaving the bleeding pair to catch a breathe in their wake.

Wawelski shook out his pelt, splattering red specks into the snow. He tried not to wince when he laid down in the snow, watching the pack wolves chase out their attacker. As the wolves faded from sight, the large male turned his bloody head to look at Petrichor. The poor wolf was shaking terribly, with his pale furred neck coated in sticky dark blood. Wawelski was thankful that the cold helped stopped the bleeding.

The larger wolf watched him for a moment. "Come here," he gave a quiet growl towards the silver wolf. The omega slowly approached Wawelski with shaky feet, head low from exhaustion. The red wolf nosed at Petrichor's throat, causing the omega to flinch, but stay still. His wounds were raw and cold against the frozen air, and deep in some places. The sodden matted fur of his neck helped to keep the lacerations closed for the most part, but they were freezing the sickly wolf.

Wawelski gave a soft sniff, then began cleaning the wounds and surrounding fur. The omega stood there in uncertainty as the larger male groomed his neck, then settled down beside him. There was silence between them. None of them felt the need to talk as they were coming to grips with what had happened over the last few days. Who were those wolves, and why were they intent on killing Petrichor. Said wolf had ended up nestling himself into Wawelski's side as the larger wolf was consumed with his dark thoughts. Their alpha had failed them. Harvey was negligent on ordering the Southern Border Patrol, and it nearly cost them their lives.

A confirmation howl from the distance signalled the pair that it was safe to travel, and Wawelski stood up, pushing off the silver wolf in the process. Petrichor gave a yelp as he was dropped carelessly in the snow. The larger wolf stepped over the confused male and started making his way back to the main camp. He heard the omega's shaky steps as he followed, and he felt the heat of rage build up in his stomach.

They shouldered past the shocked and fearful pack as they limped towards the dens. They left hushed whispers and trails of blood in their wake. Jazzy was lounging on a flattened slab of rock, conversing with Wawelski's family, when she spotted them. Immediately the beige she wolf sprung off the rock and ran toward them with the ginger she wolves following suit. Wawelski gave a low snarl as they approached, a dark and aggressive tone lacing his words like venom.

"Where is Harvey."

Author's Note: Hey I'm not dead! I just forgot to post here, my bad. Also I sat through and looked through my stories on this site and for some reason its not doing ~. I use ~ as a time skip but for some reason it doesn't load on this site, ah well.

Anyways, We got my character's Wawelski and Dracorex. And my friend's characters Jazzy and Petrichor.

If you want to have a better expierence reading and get to know more about the lore of my characters, visit my amino profile here:  /c/wolfquest/page/user/bulldust-is-busy/JJBm_EXI0fV7pM6J5dJ8mmDxL8BerXB6dWHm


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